14 The Senators Toga (1/2)
Adam Lander nudged his father's shoulder gently with his hand. The senator gave him a slightly startled glance before taking the tall glass from his hand.
The glass contained a Harvey Wallbanger: orange juice, vodka, and Galliano. It was the senator's favorite cocktail, but he grimaced after the first sip.
”Adam,” he said ”I've told you so many times: it's a Galliano FLOAT. You know what 'float' means? You splash some Galliano on top, not mix it in. Then the aroma -”
”Sorry, Dad,” Adam Lander lied. He preferred scotch and soda. If the old man fancied a poncy drink, he could mix it himself.
They stood side by side on the back terrace of the senator's house, and looked at the setup on the back lawn.
The gaily-striped tent used for garden parties had been erected there. Its sides were rolled up to reveal a circular arrangement of the silvery mats called hiber beds. A gas-powered portable refrigerator purred soothingly next to a long table set with plates, glasses, dishes, assorted silverware and three large candle-powered food warmers. The pots kept warm contained lamb sirloin strips with green peas cooked in a thick wild mushroom sauce, a herby chicken casserole, and basmati rice with a touch of saffron.
A second table supported an array of bottles and cocktail gear: half-dishes of olives and pearl onions and maraschino cherries, a bowl of cashews, crackers, and the silly little sausages on sticks that were Debbie Lander's favorite.
She could have all the sausages she wanted, thought the senator fondly as he gazed at the feast laid out in the garden. It was all Debbie's doing, with plenty of willing assistance from Karen and some unwilling, grim-faced help from Bernard, the senator's younger son.
They had all thoroughly acquainted themselves with the contents of the documentation scrolls. They had discussed those contents in the early morning hours. They had all agreed to the senator's proposal: that the Lander family establish a presence in the New World.
Randy Trueman had made some noises about having to rejoin his unit in San Diego, but Karen had dealt with that. She pulled her husband aside for a short, whispered exchange after which a hangdog-looking captain Trueman apologized for holding things up, and put himself at the disposal of the assembled company.
There were some minor disagreements about details, such as the appropriate name for the newfound empire. The senator preferred something feudal-sounding, something that would allow him to call himself an emperor or at the very least, a king. Something that would give him a chance to use the coat of arms he had secretly designed for the Chateau Lander wine.
But the others balked at this, which he found very disappointing. In the end, everyone agreed to settle the name problem at a later date, and focus on practicalities first.
It was agreed that the first team of New World explorers would be composed of the senator, Randy Trueman, and the senator's sons. Debbie and Karen would stand vigil over the hiber-bedded males, and shake them awake after exactly one hour had passed. Then, once it was known that the New World was safe, the ladies would have a turn while the male pioneers refreshed themselves at the table.
When the ladies were woken up after another hour, there would be a quick council of war under the tent's striped canopy. Priorities would be established and tasks handed out. Establishing a launching pad for transport of New World resources was among the top priorities, for sure. As Adam Lander said, inter-dimensional travel that didn't bring a profit was a waste of time.
The documentation made it plain building a launching pad was simple. All that was needed was a structure built of something called tiger rock. The documentation included a picture: stones striped like a tiger's fur or, as Debbie Lander had observed, a tabby cat's.
The documentation stated that they could be found all over the New World, and just needed to be placed together to form an enclosed space. No ceiling or roof was needed, but the floor had to be big enough to accommodate whatever was being sent. Also, the walls enclosing the floor had to reach higher than the transported articles.
”Sounds suspiciously simple,” the senator had commented. His children exchanged meaningful looks.
”There are no politics involved in this, Dad,” Karen had said. ”If we find enough of those rocks or stones quickly, we'll build a small launch pad and try to send something. I don't know, another stone or whatever, as long as it's inanimate.”
”We'll have to choose the spot carefully, ” Randy Trueman added. ”Whatever we send will appear in exactly the same spot here on Earth. We don't want anyone to be brained by a rock arriving from outer space.”
”From another universe,” the senator corrected him crossly. What the fuck was that? It was up to him, senator Kirk Lander, to decide what and how was chosen or sent or wanted.
”Isn't an, an, another universe automatically located in outer space?” Karen asked. Her husband twitched as if she had pressed a hidden button.
”The term 'outer space' refers to the universe outside our own solar system,” he recited.